Rescue Breathing (27 page)

He wraps his arm under me and pulls me to
him, kissing my temple. “I'd like that too.” He looks into my eyes
before brushing my hair behind my ear. “Stay with me tonight.” His
eyes are wide with panic as he says this, and I can tell that he's
asking despite having some…reservations? “I'm not ready to let you
go.”

But he asked…and God, I was hoping he
would ask. Part of my fantasy has been of sleeping in his strong
arms, warm and protected. I can tell that this is a big step for
him, so I hatch a plan to make it a little less nerve-racking. I
grin at him and jump up, bouncing to the other end of the bed.
After climbing under the sheets, I pull them up to my chin. Then I
crook my finger at him, beckoning him toward me.

“
If I stay, don't make me sleep all alone
over here.”

He sits up with a smile and walks to the
bathroom to dispose of the condom.
He comes back to the bed and crawls over to me,
shaking his head and laughing as he climbs under the
covers.

“
Have I mentioned how adorable you are?” he
wonders aloud as he pulls me to him.

“
You might have, but I don't mind you
telling me again,” I reply. He runs his hands through my hair and
pulls me closer, giving me a very tender kiss.

He looks up at the clock on the
nightstand, my eyes following his gaze. “It's one o'clock in the
morning. Are you tired?” he asks.

I assess his question.
Am I tired? Surprisingly no. Likely it's
all the energy from the amazing sex.

“
Not really,” I reply.

“
Good, because I was planning on pulling an
all-nighter with you,” he says, grinning from ear to ear in that
sexy way he does.

I place a hand on his chest, running my
fingers through his chest hair.
“I think I can keep up with you,” I reply.

“
Ohhh, I just love a challenge,” he
announces as he pulls the sheets up over our heads and starts to
kiss down my body, readying me for round two.

C
HAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Owen

Screaming.
All I hear are the blood-curdling, desperate
screams of children. The screams are familiar, yet it causes my
stomach to retch every time I hear them. One could never grow
accustomed to such a horrible sound. I run. I run fast towards the
screams, determined to find the source this time. They're here. I
know it. I can hear them. I think I find the crying children only
to have them calling to me from a different direction. I turn,
running towards the sound as fast as my legs can carry me. I need
to stop the screaming. They need me.

It
's hot. It's so damn hot and I can barely breathe. My lungs
constrict. My airways close.

“
I'll find you!” I yell. “Can't breathe…
Can'
t
stop.
” I thrash about
and start awake with a cool hand on my shoulder.

“
Owen?
Owen, wake up.
You're having a nightmare,” Olivia calls to me gently,
pushing on my shoulder to rouse me from my bad dream.

My eyes open wide to see Olivia staring at
me with scared eyes. “Did I save them?”
I ask her, still groggy.
I run my hands up my face and through my
sweat-drenched hair, trying to focus.

“
Who were you trying to save, Owen?”
her voice squeaks.

I shake my head and sit upright in my bed,
the bed sheet clinging to my damp body as my thoughts start to
form.
Another nightmare.
Another night my subconscious won't let me forgive myself. I
regularly wake up in a cold sweat, fighting the demons that wreak
havoc on my dreams. They get worse when I'm stressed, and my
internal struggle over my relationship with Olivia has been
weighing heavily on my mind.

“
I don
't know.” With downcast eyes, I look at Olivia and then
quickly go to my bathroom, shutting the door hard behind me and
effectively shutting Olivia out too. I splash cool water over my
face, trying to wash the memories away but it never works. I lean
my hands on the countertop, looking at myself in the
mirror.

“
Get it together, Maxwell.
Goddamn nightmares.
Shit!” I pat my face with a
towel and toss it forcefully on the counter before returning to
bed.

Olivia watches me emerge from the
bathroom, the bed sheet clutched tightly in her hand and covering
her breasts.
She eyes me
warily, waiting for me to talk. To say
something…anything.

“
I'
m fine,
” I snap
as I crawl back into bed. I lie on my side, turning my back towards
her.

“
Do you want to talk about it? Let me help
you,” she says gently, her hand sliding down my arm to comfort
me.

“
I don
't need your help and I don't want to talk about it. I told
you I'
m
fine.
”

“
Okay...” she whispers timidly. “But if you
ev—”

“
I said I'm
fine
. Drop it, Olivia,
” I spit out harshly. This is my battle. I'll handle it
like I've always handled it. Tomorrow is another day, and with it
comes the hope that the demons will stay at bay.

* * *

The next morning, I slip out of bed,
leaving Olivia to continue to sleep.
She's beautiful. No furrowed brow, not a worry in
the world as she sleeps peacefully. Peacefully. I almost forget
what that feels like. After Olivia witnessed the effects of my
nightmares firsthand last night, I'm embarrassed by both the
nightmare and my reaction to her. I wasn't fair to her. I realize
that now.

I need to go for a run and clear my head
and think. I slip on my snug boxer briefs, a pair of black running
shorts, a tight white t-shirt and navy half-zip. I sneak out of my
room, careful not to wake her. After I get my trainers on and ready
myself for my run, I peel open a banana and down some orange juice
straight from the carton. Before I leave, I send Olivia a
text.

Morning,
beautiful. Went for a run.

Make yourself at home.

Be back in an hour with breakfast. XO

I grab my key and quietly walk out the
door, locking it behind me.
As I clear the first landing, Claire exits her
apartment.

“
Morning, Claire,
” I call out.

“
I saw your friend last night, Owen,”
Claire croons like it's some big secret. “She's a lucky girl, that
one.”

“
Ah. Yes. Well, she's pretty special,” I
confirm as I continue down the stairs. I'm in no mood to
talk.

“
Special, eh? Hmmm. Will she be coming
around a lot? Do I need to get some earplugs?” she
cackles.

“
If you didn't hear anything last night,
chances are you're safe.” I wink at her. Claire's eyes grow wide
and her cheeks turn a flushed shade of pink. I open the door to the
street. “Have a good day, Claire.”

I jog slowly for a couple of blocks to get
my muscles warmed up and stop to stretch in front of my favorite
coffee shop. I see a couple lovingly holding hands across the
table, their gazes soft and their mannerisms screaming to the world
that they're a couple in love. I start to think of Olivia still
sleeping in my bed, and the events of last night roll through my
mind like a movie. The way she laughed as we danced, how she
smelled when I held her close, and her wide eyes when she saw my
hard cock ready for her. Everything about Olivia is addictive—from
the way she carries herself to the way she tastes to the way she
screams my name.

I finish stretching and start off running
down the trail of a nearby park. My job demands that I stay in
shape, and running helps to clear my head. I see a few familiar
faces, ones I see most mornings but have no relationship with.
Relationships…

What the hell am I doing with
Olivia?
I'm not a
relationship guy. I like playing the field and having different
girls on rotation. Variety is the spice of life and all that shit,
right? Yet the prospect of seeing Caroline, Myrna, or Jessica (my
usual flings) again doesn't turn me on even the littlest bit. I
need my independence, but I'm finding that I need Olivia just as
much.

After running until my body and mind are
exhausted, I circle back to my corner coffee shop and order two
black coffees, a piece of coffee cake, a blueberry loaf, and a
couple of yogurt parfaits to go. I exit the shop and make my way
back to my apartment, knowing that the woman inside it will change
my life. I'm ready to do this, to try this “relationship” thing out
again. Lord knows I've fucked it up in the past, but that was then.
If you don't let your past die, then your future won't let you
live.

C
HAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Olivia

I am absently looking at myself in the
foggy mirror of Owen
's
bathroom. I just took a shower, and now I am standing here with a
towel around my body and another one in my hair. I'm realizing that
I don't have anything to use to get ready with at Owen's apartment.
No makeup, no hair products. Fuck.
Way to think ahead, Olivia.
I don
't even have clean clothes. I pick up Owen's
toothbrush and brush my teeth. Hopefully he won't mind, although
from where he put his mouth last night, I should hope my mouth
wouldn't cause him alarm.

Last night. What did I do wrong? He
obviously was having a nightmare, and even more obvious was that he
knew about it. He must be having flashbacks, which is common in
firefighters. I should know. I've been studying them. I sometimes
forget that my inherent nature is to ask questions when these
things happen, and I realize now I should have just kept my mouth
shut, although he did a fairly good job of shutting me
up.

I spent several hours watching him until
he fell asleep
—and even
afterward while trying to figure out what to do. He was clearly
upset with me. I contemplated leaving. I contemplated staying. And
in the end, my exhaustion kept me where I was. But I had every
intention of leaving first thing in the morning, preferably before
he woke up. I figure maybe this is too real. This was fun in
Seattle where there had been no expectation of more, but maybe
having me in his space is too much, and I can understand that. It
scares me too.

This morning he sent me a text:

Morning,
beautiful. Went for a run.

Make yourself at home.

Be back in an hour with breakfast. XO

That kind of surprised me.
I decided it would be rude to
just leave if he was bringing breakfast. Instead, I got showered
and dressed. Then I'd eat, just thank him for his time, and leave.
Yeah, that's really the best thing to do.

I rummage under his cabinet, feeling
intrusive but desperate to find something to dry my hair with. I
find a hair dryer. I try hard to push the thought of why he would
have a hair dryer, out of my mind. I'm sure I'm not the only woman
to have gotten ready in his bathroom. I let my hair fall from the
towel it's currently wrapped in, bending at the waist, and dry it.
The loud noise is welcoming as it feels like it clears my head a
bit. I want so badly to not be so invested in this that
I'
ll get hurt.
He told me he
wouldn'
t hurt me.
But somehow, in moments like
this, I realize that it is a very real possibility that he will
hurt me, and that's terrifying. Maybe that's what had him out of
sorts last night. I suppose that, when you have a vulnerability,
it's scary to have that exposed to someone you don't know
well.

I flip my hair back and jump with a
yelp.
Owen is leaning
against the doorframe, staring at me with a lazy smile on his
face.

“
Hey there,” he grins, his eyes roaming my
body.

I clutch my towel to my chest as I place
the hair dryer back. I blush like I just got caught with my hand in
the cookie jar. He looks at me like we've known each other forever.
I'm so confused.

“
Hi yourself,” I reply, trying not to sound
too warm.
I
don
't want him to think
I'm overstaying my welcome or, frankly, that I've forgotten the
unease of our last interaction.

“
I...um, I
'm sorry I kind of took over your bathroom. I
didn't mean to rummage through your stuff.
I just
… My first instinct was to take a shower, but I
forgot…
um, I
don
't have stuff with
me.” I shuffle my feet and look at the ground, feeling like a
moron. I finally meet his eyes. “I'll be out of your way soon. I'm
sorry. I'm, um, not sure what I say here.” My instinct to run is
crawling over me like ants all over my skin, but he's blocking the
doorway.

His face changes from sweet to unsure.
“Out of my way? I did say to make yourself at home, didn't I?” he
asks with confusion in his voice.

I can
't make eye contact with him. It's too
unnerving.